Human
by Happymood
Summary: Germany seriously thought that the moment the Berlin Wall would go down, would be the moment Prussia would be gone forever, but his brother was still there, still alive, and it would take them years before they actually realized something wasn't really okay...


**A.N. After rereading 'My dear awesome diary' and 'Who am I', I was tempted to do another fic featuring Prussia and now here it is. I hope you'll like it. ****Please forgive me for any lexical or grammatical errors! :) R R!  
**

_Human_

Germany had talked about it with Italy, France and Spain for so many years that, in the end, he ended up believing it. Since Russia took his brother, Prussia, with him, since his country had been divided in two like an apple, since that moment he saw for what he really hoped wasn't the last time Prussia's red, amused eyes, since then, Germany hadn't stopped worrying.

He had to hear from Prussia for decades, and yet Russia kept telling him, with that childish smile of his that made him cringe inside, his brother was alright and was writing down in his, supposedly secret, journal like a maniac. Germany hadn't a clue what Prussia was up to or if Russia was lying and Prussia wasn't still in that world anymore.

Germany felt his heart clench every time he spotted a world map and didn't see his brother's country on it anymore. Germany's heart bled when he glanced out of his window and saw that damned wall towering above him.

Was Prussia alright? Was his brother alive?

Russia said yes. Germany needed to believe him.

What made Germany fear the most, though, was not Russia lying to him, but Italy, France and Spain being in the right.

France said: "I hope he is alright, but what is going to happen if the wall crumbles down? Prussia doesn't exist anymore. Maybe the fact he is now a part of Russia is what keeps him alive, you know? What if the wall crumbles down?"

Spain said: "I'm sure Prussia is alright, but can I still call him 'Prussia'? I mean, Prussia is not a country anymore."

Italy said: "Russia can be a big meanie sometimes, but I'm sure he is not lying! Prussia is alive and well!"

The three statements combined made Germany honestly think that if the wall really was destroyed, Prussia would be gone with it and he seriously started to consider that it would be better if Prussia was already dead, so he wouldn't be disappointed if Germany didn't see him ever again.

So when the wall really did "crumble down", when all that madness was over and families were finally reunited, Germany seriously thought that, the moment Prussia, if he was still alive, made a step over the debris, would be the moment Prussia would leave him forever, like Rome did with his two grandchildren.

Germany waited.

The wall came down and many people stepped over it. Germany waited for a long time, even started thinking that Russia had been lying and his brother wasn't in this world anymore, but then, suddenly, Prussia did appear, did step over the debris and had spotted him in the throb, had grinned like a maniac and without a warning, run and hugged him like his life depended on it.

Germany thought it literally did, and he didn't let go of his brother for a long time. He usually hated these kinds of things, but he had to see his brother since forever and he had to make up for lost time.

Moreover, it didn't seem like Prussia wanted to let go either, as if he knew that, if he let go, he would disappeared like he had never been there.

But when he did, Germany noticed with satisfaction and relief that his brother looked good, maybe a little paler than he already was, but okay, alive and still walking, breathing, laughing, making fun of his gelled back hair and absolutely… Prussia.

Germany wondered then if Prussia was still a nation, maybe not 'Prussia' per se but something else they still had to discover. Prussia had grinned at him, crumbled all his fears down with a wave of his hand and said:

"Calm down, brother! Someone as awesome as me can't disappear like that! See? I'm so awesome that I'm still here!"

And Germany had smiled (when Prussia wasn't looking) and decided then that if they want to keep things in order, Prussia should change his name in 'East Germany', hoping that in this way Prussia wasn't going to leave him for a long time, that Prussia would in this way remain a nation even if he wasn't on the map anymore.

Prussia hadn't complained, had told him that he had been a step ahead of Germany since forever, that he always called him 'West' in his head and that he had always been 'East' so Germany should get a grip and get used to it.

And Germany did.

(But Prussia didn't. When called 'East', Prussia would turn around just a third of the time, and Germany had to call him 'Prussia' to get his attention. Prussia didn't do it on purpose. Prussia was just Prussia.)

It took his months for all worries to slowly dissipate. East Germany started living in his basement, became a little lazier than he used to be (now that there were no wars and strategy had become a game), and became a little too obsessed with technology, but he was always there, he hadn't disappeared as France had predicted, and Germany was happy.

East Germany kept drinking, kept being noisy, kept being annoying when he was bored, kept asking him if he needed help in the office because he couldn't stand staying at home all day long like an old man and he needed action, and Germany had said:

"Paperwork is no action."

And Prussia had replied:

"You think I can't manage?"

And Germany had sighed and had let him help him out, but still Prussia kept swearing like a sailorman, kept complaining about being bored out of his mind, kept sneaking out to visit France or Spain or whoever he wanted when he thought paperwork just couldn't stand his awesomeness.

Germany felt like that only times had changed, but that Prussia was still the same, he still was the brother he used to know and Germany forgot about his worries and started living, pretending that his brother had always been there.

Everything seemed normal. Even Prussia trying his old outfits out when he thought Germany wasn't there was normal. Even that face of melancholy on his brother face was normal.

It took them years to realize it wasn't.

Germany realized something was wrong when he and Prussia fought one day over who should wash the dishes and Prussia had unexpectedly lost. He had started washing the glasses, swearing like a madman, when suddenly, he roughly grabbed a knife and deeply cut his hand.

Prussia had stared at the blood running in the sink and looked at his hand.

"Germany!" he called, "Come and see this!"

Germany had gone, his eyebrows furrowed and hands on hips and noticed the blood on Prussia's hand. Prussia was almost laughing but there was worried look in the other's face that didn't go unnoticed in Germany's eyes.

"Why isn't it stopping?" Prussia asked out loud, putting the hand under the cold water and silently wondering why the sink was still red. Germany raised an eyebrow.

Nations healed relatively fast. Human wounds were nothing for them, they healed in a second, disappearing like they had never existed. It was the wounds that other nations inflicted on them in wars that never healed, leaving a scar behind as a reminder of their past.

Prussia had a lot of those scars to brag about as did a lot of other nations, but none had a scratch that could blame to a fall when they rode their first bike. If they had, it was long gone.

"Germany… is not healing." Prussia said with a calm voice but that let out an anxiety Germany didn't know his brother could possess. In a moment Germany grabbed a cloth and wrapped it around Prussia's hand and immediately led him out of the kitchen, out of the house, and for the first time in their life to a hospital where they put stitches on Prussia's hand, stopping the blood once and for all.

The ride back home was silent. Prussia kept staring at his hand, grinning and opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. When they got home, Prussia declared he was tired and went down in his room to play with his computer and Germany was left behind to clean the mess in the kitchen.

Germany stared at the blood on the counter for a long time, then took the knife and inflicted the same wound on his hand. The cut disappeared three minutes after it was done.

The day Prussia accidentally burned himself and no matter how much Prussia swore it hurt, the burn remained there, was the day Germany overreacted and decided his brother was banned from touching anything that could cut, burn or injure.

Prussia had thrown a fit:

"I am the older brother here, West! Stop being a fucking mother hen and let me live!"

A phrase that made Germany angry and had led to an argument neither of them won in the end. Nevertheless, Germany decided to keep a strict eye on his brother and Prussia had almost punched him in the face when Germany flinched one day when Prussia earned a paper cut when reading a porn magazine.

Germany realized that something was indeed wrong when one day he suddenly looked at Prussia straight in the face and had noticed the other seemed somehow older.

"You look… more mature."

"Geez, West. If that's meant to be a compliment, do it without frowning next time, will ya?"

Prussia looked the same, though. The same albino hair and scary red eyes. The same tone of voice, the same complaining about how better life was back in the days, the same melancholy when Prussia thought no one was looking, the same laugh and the same hate for whatever Prussia qualified as not awesome enough.

Apparently, Prussia remained Prussia, but something was changing.

Because when all the other nations, even the older ones, remained the same, Prussia or East Germany seemed to grow older.

Prussia didn't want to admit it.

Germany didn't want to believe it.

Once he talked with Italy.

"Italy?"

"Yes, Germania?"

"I was just wondering… huh…" Germany tried hard to find the right words, "What exactly happened with your Grandpa?"

"My Grandpa?", the question had obviously shocked Italy, "You mean when he disappeared?"

"That's the point, Italy." Germany tried to find the courage to go on, "Did you see him disappear?"

"Err… no." Italy's eyebrows were furrowed. "He told me goodbye and walked away. I never saw him actually disappearing… but I never saw him again, if that's what you mean."

"Oh." And that was all Germany needed to hear to decide that at the end of his days something happened to Rome, something that made the last fight with his own Grandpa fatal, and that maybe that same something was happening to Prussia too.

Prussia told him:

"I told you many times to call me East, West! You are not awesome at all!"

Germany ignored him:

"Why don't you search for a job?"

Prussia was shocked, he looked at him with wide eyes for a long moment and then muttered something under his breath and slammed the door to his room behind him.

Obviously Prussia didn't start searching for a job.

On the contrary, the job came to him.

It happened one day totally by chance. Prussia had taken the bus to go to the center of Berlin, suddenly feeling too tired to walk there. He had sat down, had ignored the looks around him and had put his earphones on. The iPod was silent.

Then two boys sat before him and started talking. The discussion gained Prussia's attention. The boys were obviously studying for a history exam and Prussia decided to listen to their conversation, heard the atrocities they were saying and suddenly grabbed them by the ear and shouted:

"What the hell are you studying in school? Oh, man! That is just so wrong!" and ignoring their swearwords, he started telling them the right version of history, had explained to them just why Prussia was worth studying and had let them go with a really satisfied look on his face. The boys obviously gave him the finger and went to sit somewhere else, but in their place sat a woman.

She smiled at him.

Prussia stared at her long brown hair and at her green eyes. Prussia immediately stopped thinking.

"I couldn't refrain from hearing your… lecture."

"Heck, the kids didn't know what they were saying." Prussia said deciding to cut the conversation short and putting the earphones back on.

"You know a lot about history."

Prussia scoffed but didn't add anything. The woman kept smiling.

"I'm a teacher _too_." She said, "And I work in a school where we desperately need a new history teacher… you seem in your thirties, aren't you? Are you working somewhere?"

Her straightforwardness amazed him and made his eyebrows furrow.

"What's your name?"

To which Prussia answered:

"Pr- I mean, Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmitt."

When he returned home, Prussia told Germany:

"I found a job."

Germany obviously laughed.

The day Prussia made his first step in the school was the day Prussia actually realized he was glad he never needed to go in one. The kids were noisy and knew nothing, despite all the books and shit they made them read. Prussia was glad he was a nation, otherwise he would have been as stupid as his pupils were.

He found the classroom he was assigned to, cursed himself for taking up the job, and opened the door. Twenty pair of eyes turned to look at him, twenty mouths started whispering among each other, some even snickered, and Prussia refrained from snickering as well because the guys obviously didn't know who they were facing and sat down on his desk.

Everybody stopped talking. Prussia looked outside the window, then at the history book the nice lady he met in the bus had given him and flipped through the pages. Then, under the shocked eyes of his pupils, Prussia laughed and threw it in the trash can.

Twenty pair of eyes stared at him.

Prussia grinned.

And that was how he made his entry as a history teacher.

(And unexpectedly ended up being the most loved teacher in the whole school. Who would have thought?)

The nice lady was called Ulrike. She had Hungarian origins, she told him, and Prussia bit his mouth before he could exclaim: "I fucking know."

Six months after they first met, she asked him out. Prussia said:

"Okay, what-the-fuck-ever."

She had laughed.

On the first date, she had asked him when he was born. Prussia had thought about it, making her look amused at him and then with a shrug said:

"Third October." Which wasn't a lie, really, but he wasn't sure if it was the truth either.

She asked him where he was born.

Prussia said:

"Germany."

At the question about his parents, Prussia had shrugged. Even the fact he had a brother wasn't mentioned.

His aforementioned brother wasn't happy about the news.

"You can't date humans, Prussia! You know it's dangerous!"

To which Prussia suddenly felt on the defensive and shouted:

"Oh, fuck it, West! You know I'm not a nation anymore!"

(Neither of them dared say something about what Prussia now really was.)

A year after he met Ulrike, Prussia woke up and looked at himself in the mirror. The mirror looked back at him, mocked him and teased him for having a new wrinkle under his eyes. Prussia had stared at the wrinkles for a long time and then laughed, called West and said:

"Don't I look like Old Fritz?"

Germany didn't think it was an amusing joke.

His pupils thought he looked manly when Prussia pointed his wrinkles out. Ulrike thought he was mad for being amused at getting older.

"No one wants to grow old." She said.

"I already have white hair, there is not going to be a big difference!" he laughed, but his heart did feel a little heavier, his bones were starting to ache whenever it got colder and the scar left by that knife so long before was as obvious as ever.

Prussia had to admit he felt different.

France and Spain looked the same when they went drinking together, and the last time Prussia saw them had been when Germany had let him assist at a World meeting six years before. France and Spain had a lot of things to do, but they would never deny him a beer when he asked for one. That had been a rule among them for ages, but now it felt it had slightly changed.

France and Spain didn't let him drink more than three bottles of beer, as if his liver was going to go bad and end up in the hospital. Prussia couldn't end up in the hospital.

(Gilbert Beilschmitt could.)

So after the fifteenth time Prussia told them to stop fucking worrying, he decided it was time to have other companies. He wished to have a normal life.

Marrying Ulrike had been a mistake, though.

Ulrike met Germany the day before their marriage. Ulrike thought it was Prussia's son and Prussia had let her believing it. Germany had bit his tongue in order not to curse the world for existing.

Ulrike hadn't been mad.

"Why haven't you told me sooner?" she had asked.

"I thought you would hate me." Prussia lied.

"I would never hate you."

Prussia wished she could.

Germany tried not to mess with their lives and Prussia was grateful. Prussia thought that as a nation he was wasting that pure woman's life. She should have kids with another man, have a proper life, because Prussia wasn't sure he could be what she wanted.

(Even because in the end Ulrike wasn't the woman Prussia loved.)

Ulrike never got pregnant and that made things even worse.

One day when the kids were writing madly on their pieces of paper for the final exams, Prussia found himself looking at the map of Europe hanging on the other side of the wall. His eyes fixed a spot in the map and remained there until one of his students pointed it out.

"Why are you staring at the map, sir?"

Prussia had looked down, straight into the boy's eyes and laughed.

"I just realized I never told you Hungary's history!" he joked and then his laughter subsided and left a hole in his heart. The next day he asked for divorce.

The shocked expression on Ulrike's face surprised him, but the punch he expected never came.

(Ulrike just had Hungarian _origins_.)

When one day Prussia decided to try his old uniforms on, he realized he didn't fit them anymore. When he looked at the mirror again, he realized he was fifty.

That same day, Prussia decided to pay Austria a visit. He took a train and it took him a long time to arrive at destination. Back in the day it would take an hour for Prussia to get to Austria.

Austria was surprised to see him there and Prussia was surprised to see that ugly face not changed at all, so unlike his own. Austria had offered him a hot cocoa, Prussia had disregarded the gesture and had sat down on the other's comfy sofa and said:

"Don't tell Germany."

"That you are here?"

"That I'm starting to forget."

"And why are you telling _me _this?"

"Because I know you don't fucking care about me, so you are not going to make a fuss if I tell you that I sometimes need to search in one of those stupid textbooks kids study these days to remember what happened to me in a certain period of time. That I sometimes even forget that nations exists and that's it's not only in my head. That I sometimes wonder who the heck am I, who the heck I'm supposed to be…"

"I think your mind can't take the information overload anymore. Nations are complicated creatures and their mind is so different from hu-!"

"Don't even fucking say it." Prussia exclaimed. "Don't even say that word."

"But is the truth, isn't it?" Austria sniffed, "That's what you became, so get a grip and live your life now that you can."

The words hit Prussia like a bucket of cold, freezing water.

Austria prepared a cup of hot cocoa and started playing the piano as Prussia sipped his offered drink.

Everything felt suddenly melancholic.

Prussia never thought he would miss one day Austria playing. When one is immortal, single moments held no value, especially if you know you are going to live them again and again.

It took him too long a time to realize that he should have paid attention sooner.

The moments with Germany, his brother, had been unique. His history had been unique and now was long gone.

So when Prussia returned home later than day he asked Germany if they could dine together. He said:

"Invite that cute guy as well." He grinned, "God knows you miss him!"

"Who?"

"Italy, of course! Call his brother as well, if you like. And France and Spain too! I need to hear their voices!"

Germany was shocked by his brother's choice of words, but he did as told, not feeling like denying Prussia anything. That night had been a pleasant one, like history had never existed, a moment lost in time, destined to never return again.

Germany thought Prussia was losing it.

He thought Prussia was sad because his story with Ulrike didn't work out, but then again Prussia never mentioned her again even if they kept in contact on daily basis. He thought Prussia was mad because he called himself 'Old Fritz' whenever he looked at himself in the mirror.

He thought Prussia was just shocked every time they walked together and people pointed out what a good Grandpa he must be.

"And his grandson is so handsome! That guy must have been gorgeous back in the days."

Prussia always looked cheerful when they happened to overhear those kinds of chitchats.

Prussia was cheerful.

Prussia looked like he didn't care. He seemed happier, somehow, like he had found his reason for existing.

Germany thought Prussia was gone when his brother turned to him one day and told him:

"My name is Gilbert, why you keep forgetting?"

Even if the one forgetting seemed to be Gilbert himself.

And the map didn't change a bit, the borders kept being the same, languages gained new words and every autumn the leaves of the trees would turn yellow, until one day Gilbert turned around, look at him and said:

"I bet Old Fritz felt like I do now, don't you think? I miss that old man."

Germany had thought Gilbert was just reminiscing again, but then he said:

"It was fun, wasn't it, Ludwig?" his voice shook with age, the wrinkles under his eyes turned up in joy and he laughed the same laugh Germany had heard since forever.

It was the last time Gilbert called Germany by his name.

That sad day Italy held his hand tightly in his. Ulrike, old and beautiful, stood by his side surrounded by her grandchildren. She told him:

"He was a good man, your Grandpa."

Gilbert's now older pupils were there as well, as a lot of nations. Hungary stared down at Gilbert's calm face, she didn't talk as they closed the coffin for the last time. Germany took a glimpse of that face as well before it disappeared forever and he swore that, for a fleeting, Prussia's face had been young again.

As Italy held his hand, Germany wondered if it had been the same for Rome as well. His time had come and when Germania inflicted that wound it was too lethal for a mortal body to bear. Maybe his own Grandpa too had ended up being the same or even Geece's mother had in the end let herself die.

Or maybe Prussia had been too awesome to simply disappear. Prussia had been too awesome, too unique, to just vanish into thin air and the world had given him another chance to be himself in a mortal body.

Prussia had been Prussia until the very end, and Germany could swear Prussia was giving him the thumb up somewhere between this world and the next and was exclaiming "Fuck, yeah!" at the top of his lungs.

"Because, West. I'm too awesome to just disappear. I'm Prussia."

_The end._


End file.
